


Do As I Say, Not As I Do

by NurseDarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First time kinda, Fluff and Smut, Humour, M/M, Roleplay, Sneaky boys, will they or won't they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/pseuds/NurseDarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They thought they had the perfect plan.  They didn’t. From the prompts: Al and Scorpius decide to try something new in their sex life; roleplaying their fathers & Al and Scorpius' s first time is embarrassingly and accidentally interrupted by their shocked fathers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do As I Say, Not As I Do

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, thank you to my brilliant betas, DelphiPSmith & Groolover, and to Julie for the great advice. The ending is rather abrupt (and plagairised), but I thought Draco and the Divine Ms R said it better than I ever could.  
> Written for the_ass_fest 2011.

_Hey,_

_Just found out Dad is the damned guest lecturer this year! WTF? As if we don’t have enough trouble sneaking around to avoid YOUR father! Thank Merlin my sister can be bribed. I know McGonagall wants to carry on that random tradition of changing DADA teachers every five minutes, but WHY MY FATHER???_

_Mmmm…speaking of my father…did you still want to do that thing you said…pretend we’re our dads? I know you wanted to – I do think you’re a bit mad – but, hey, as long as it means I have your cock inside me, you can pretend to be Voldemort for all I care._

_Actually no, that’s not what I mean. But your dad is hot, and you think mine is, and I still can't figure out if they had a thing, but if they didn't, they should have. So yeah, when? And where? I’ve been reading through one of Dad's biographies, and it mentions your dad a lot, but never about them actually being anywhere alone together. Maybe I can wangle something out of him. You do the same, okay?_

_Right, I’d better get this sent to you. It may be charmed to run extra fast, but this bloody ferret is STILL gonna take all night to get to the Manor._

_-You-Know-Who (hahaha)_

o0o0o0o0o

Albus found Scorpius waiting for him at the top of Knockturn Alley. Albus’s father had needed to buy a few things for the classes he would be teaching this year, and Albus had volunteered to accompany him to London, figuring that he might as well get his books and other things early so as to avoid the rush later in the summer. What a coincidence that Scorpius’s father was doing the same, in preparation for another year of teaching Potions. As far as Albus knew, the two older men didn’t have reason to cross paths, and as far as he could see, they hadn’t. But Scorpius had suggested this clandestine meeting when they'd both learned of Potter and Malfoy Sr's early foray to the shops.

And Albus had just happened to bring his Cloak with him – it was _his_ now, after all. He quickly threw it over Scorpius and himself and the two boys disappeared from the view of anyone who might have been lurking nearby.

Conversation was eschewed for other activities using lips and tongues. After a few moments of reacquainting themselves with each other’s taste, they spoke in hushed tones, their whispers carried down the dank cobblestones as just one more of the eerie sounds that emanated from the alley.

"Missed you, Potter," Scorpius breathed into Albus's mouth. Pale, long-fingered hands moved from Albus's face to his shoulders and then slid down his arms to grasp his hands.

"You've no idea, Malfoy," Albus said, clasping those hands. "I know it's only been weeks, but it feels like forever." He felt the physical separation as only a just-seventeen-year-old could, but a part of Albus, something deep inside, was warmed by more than his boyfriend's touch. Scorpius's nearness, his gaze, just his _being there_ made Albus's heart swell. Lily would tell him he was in love. Albus would tell her to shut up.

After some time, Scorpius disengaged himself and looked down at Albus with bright eyes. "Any luck finding a…scenario?"

Albus smirked, an expression his father was pants at. _Have to remember that when the time comes_ , he thought. _No smirking_. "Before we left for London, I found a book by someone he went to school with, Theodore someone."

"Theodore Nott," Scorpius clarified. "We've got that book, but I haven't looked at it yet. Go on."

"Nott wrote that your dad and mine didn't get on at all, but we know that already."

"Sure do." Scorpius stole a kiss at the pause in their conversation.

"But it did mention a couple of things I've never heard Dad talk about." Albus pursed his lips in thought. Scorpius used the opportunity to kiss him again. "Stop distracting me." He tightened his arms around Scorpius's neck.

"Sorry, won't happen again," Scorpius apologised.

"No need to get carried away, Malfoy," Albus teased, kissing Scorpius in his turn. "Anyway, one thing I don't remember Dad ever mentioning was your dad breaking his nose. Nott says that during the start-of-term banquet in sixth year he overheard your dad telling Blaise Zabini that he'd broken Dad's nose on the Hogwarts Express, on their way back to school."

"Oh yeah?" Scorpius raised a pale eyebrow.

"Don't get too excited, Malfoy. No one believed him. Apparently there weren't any witnesses, and Nott goes on to say that if it had really happened, your dad would have crowed about it to everyone instead of just confiding in Blaise Zabini."

"I'll have to ask him," Scorpius mused.

"There's something else. Apparently, there was a rumour that they had a huge duel in sixth year, but no one knows much about it. Has your dad ever said anything about that?"

Scorpius was quiet for a moment.

"Scorp?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking. I know about the duel in second year – that's in all the books. But I'm not sure about any others. Dad's got scars and old wounds from the War, but he doesn't like to talk about them. And he always tries to hide them. There's lots on his chest and a bad one on his hand, but he says that one is from messing around with his potions. Hmmm…I'm not sure he'd tell me about any duel, especially if he lost, and I think we can safely assume he did or it's unlikely that you'd be here."

Both boys shook themselves, as if shrugging off the dark events of their fathers' shared history. The moment passed and Albus distracted Scorpius from more maudlin thoughts by grabbing a handful of his boyfriend's hair. Scorpius returned the favour by grabbing a handful of Albus's arse. "Are you sure you really want to do this?" he said. "I mean, if it's true about them on the train, it might get a bit…rough." Scorpius looked into Albus's eyes.

Albus smirked again. "I can't wait. And I want rough. I think this is the perfect way to fuck for the first time." Even in the dim light he could see grey eyes glazing over at the thought.

"Had enough of just blowjobs then, have you?" Scorpius asked, mirroring Albus's (and indeed his own father's) smirk.

The idea of being fucked by Scorpius as his father whilst role-playing his own father was getting more appealing to Albus by the minute. Even if it never had happened in real life. Or maybe because it _hadn't_ happened in real life and perhaps should have. "I'll never be tired of blowjobs. You're more than welcome to indulge in them whenever you want." Then he twisted in Scorpius's arms and looked around. "Well, perhaps not here."

"No? Not under your Cloak in a dark alley but on a train full of people?" Scorpius raised an eyebrow. How did he do that? "Don't answer that," Scorpius continued, and kissed Albus again.

o0o0o0o0o

"Dad?"

Harry looked up from the lesson plan he was reviewing and gazed at his younger son. Albus was lying on the worn velvet sofa in his father's study, which was one of his favourite rooms in the house.

"Sorry, did you want me to leave you alone?" Albus apologised. Best to ingratiate himself if he were going to ask his father about what could be a sensitive subject.

"No, it's okay, Al." Harry smiled. He looked grateful for the break. "What is it?"

"Um… This book I'm reading, you know..?" He held up _Harry at Hogwarts_ by Theodore Nott.

"Oh, that's one I haven't read. Probably full of rubbish." Harry took his glasses off and polished them on his jumper.

Albus sat up and swung his feet to the floor. "There's a bit in here about Professor Malfoy breaking your nose on the train once. Is that true? Did that really happen?"

Harry started for a moment and fixed his gaze on the other side of the room. Albus registered the far-away look and wondered what his father was seeing in his mind's eye.

"Dad?"

"It's true." Harry turned and looked directly at his son. When Albus made no comment, Harry added, "Not my finest hour."

Albus smirked. "Sorry, I'm just trying to imagine Professor Malfoy and you in a fist-fight. I mean, I know you had a duel in DADA in second year, that's in all the books…" Albus paused but Harry didn't say anything, he just looked thoughtful again, so Albus pressed on. "So, what happened? Did he start it? Nott doesn't say." Albus leaned across to the desk and handed his father the book.

Harry put his glasses back on and studied the page. After a few moments he returned the book to Albus. "You’re right. It doesn't say much."

"I know; that's why I thought I'd ask," Albus clarified. "I mean, this isn't even an authorised biography or anything."

"Indeed." Harry sighed. "But I _was_ at school with Theodore Nott, and it doesn’t look like he's said anything about the event that isn't actually true –"

"Really? Will you tell me about it?" Albus wanted every detail but didn't want to appear too eager. He was hopeful that he could coax his father into divulging the whole and accurate story. Albus knew how much Scorpius would love to have their experience be as authentic as possible. Up to a point, of course.

His father stretched out his legs in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. It looked as though he was making himself comfortable, so Albus resettled himself on the sofa, trying to look just interested rather than utterly fascinated. Too late, he realised he should have cast a surreptitious recording spell. Then again, a spell like that might have tripped the wards in the house. Not that it would have mattered -- his father could sense most use of magic with or without the wards.

"Nott hasn't got the whole story, of course. I'm surprised, actually, that he didn't ask Malfoy for more details before writing this. Indeed, I'm surprised that most of Slytherin didn't know about it at the time; I'd have thought for sure Malfoy would have been happy to tell anyone who listened." Harry looked briefly puzzled, then seemed to remember something and muttered, "Then again, maybe not that year." He turned back to his son. "Well, the details. I'd seen Malfoy in Diagon Alley earlier, looking a bit…furtive. When I saw him again on the train, I thought I'd try to find out what he was up to, so I hid myself under my Cloak --."

Albus cleared his throat meaningfully.

"Sorry. Your Cloak. Anyway, I slipped into the compartment where he was sitting with Pansy Parkinson and those two thugs Crabbe and Goyle. I managed to get onto the luggage rack and waited to see what they were talking about, but they didn't say anything interesting, just bits of gossip. Once we arrived at school, I thought he'd get off with his friends, but he didn't. At first I thought that maybe now he'd reveal whatever this secret of his was. But he must have known I was there – I must have made some noise – and he hexed me. Cast _Petrificus Totalus_. I fell into the aisle and he pulled the Cloak off me. Then he said something nasty – I can't remember the exact words – and stamped on my nose."

Albus grimaced. Despite his and Scorpius's plans to re-enact the events in a more pleasurable manner, he could well imagine how painful and embarrassing it must have been for Harry at the time.

"Then he threw the Cloak back over me. So there I was, immobile and bleeding and invisible. If it hadn't been for Nymphadora Tonks - Teddy's mum – being suspicious of all the blinds being drawn on the carriage, I might have ended up back in London."

Albus's eyes went wide. He had never realised -- nor, he was sure, had Scorpius -- that their fathers had so much more of a shared past than the histories let on. Clearly something had been tying them together at the same time as pushing them apart. Anyone who stood in the same room with them for more than fifteen minutes could sense that. Albus wondered what his father would think if he knew of the plans he and Scorpius Malfoy had for each other in that same carriage. Luckily, the dim light of the study didn't allow Harry to see the blush which reddened his son's cheeks at the thought. "Then what?" he encouraged.

"Of course, as you know from your aunt's chapter in the new edition of _Hogwarts, a History_ , Draco Malfoy was, at the time, working on a way to let the Death Eaters into the school and was tasked with killing the Headmaster…" Harry paused, frowning, then continued. "And at the time of our encounter on the train, his father had just gone to Azkaban after the battle at the Ministry. Malfoy pretty much blamed me for everything that went wrong in his life." Harry sighed.

Albus gave his father the moment he obviously needed to collect his thoughts. After a while, he broke the thoughtful silence. "Thanks, Dad. I love learning stuff about you when you were young." He grinned. "You and Professor Malfoy aren't going to get into any fights when you get back to school this year, are you?"

Albus's question lightened the mood and his father laughed. "I don't think the Headmistress would be very happy about that, do you? I'll try to restrain myself." Harry sat up straighter. "Speaking of which, I'd better get finished here." He handed back the book.

Albus took it and was on his way toward the door, but turned at the sound of his name. "Albus, you know I would never advocate winding up Draco Malfoy, but if you ever run into his son, you might ask him if he's ever heard that story." Harry nodded at the book in Albus's hand. "Nott obviously got this from someone, which means Draco told a housemate, at least. Maybe he's also told his family. I'd be curious to know how he remembers it."

"Sure, Dad. I'll let you know. I see Scorpius in class, of course, and I occasionally bump into him." _In fact, I repeatedly bump into him…_

"Ah, right, then. Goodnight.”

o0o0o0o0o

“Probably my finest hour where Potter is concerned,” Draco said without looking at his son. He had his head buried in the newspaper but then, realising the oddness of the question, his eyes left the Quidditch scores and flicked to his son’s. “Though it’s not common knowledge. How did you find out about that?”

Scorpius shifted in his chair, a tell-tale sign that he was nervous. Or fishing. Or both. “Read it in a book,” he answered noncommittally. “Or maybe Uncle Greg told me, I can’t remember…”

Draco folded the paper and placed it carefully by his plate. “All right. What exactly did you _read_ , then?”

The sun shone through the large French windows of the dining room, accentuating the brightness of Scorpius’s hair and the blueness of his eyes. His mother’s eyes, one of her better features. Draco watched now as those blue eyes gazed at the ceiling. Scorpius was evidently searching for the words.

“Something about you cornering Professor Potter on the train. All I remember is the part where you broke his nose. I wasn’t sure I believed it. You never told me anything about that.” Scorpius looked back at his father, a challenging-ingratiating expression on his handsome features.

“Why are you curious about that? It happened a long time ago, you know.” Draco narrowed his eyes while schooling his features into his blank Professor-mode expression. Scorpius usually had trouble seeing through that.

Scorpius toyed with his croissant. Draco watched as his son's long fingers tore off bits of the pastry. Then he looked down at his own. Scorpius had inherited those hands. And -- normally cool and calm -- Scorpius was fidgety as a niffler in a room full of tiaras.

“Well…” Scorpius began, looking up at the chandelier instead of towards the head of the table where his father sat. “I guess...because Professor Potter is going to be teaching at Hogwarts, I was just thinking of the history between the two of you. You know, are you going to be avoiding each other? Did you part on good terms after the War? You never talk about him, and Uncle Greg didn’t know very much other than what you’ve told him. He said it was one of the last things he remembers you mentioning about Professor Potter before the War started.”

Draco pondered his son's comments. He’d never discussed Potter with Scorpius, never shown any interest in him when Scorpius or his friends brought Potter up in conversation. Other than their annual brief acknowledgements on the train platform or at the occasional Quidditch match, Draco rarely saw Potter.

Scorpius, of course, wouldn’t be living the same Potter-free life, and maybe that was where this interest came from. After all, he shared a House with one of Potter's children and was in the same year as another. Perhaps it was only natural he'd be curious.

But that wouldn’t explain the nervousness. Draco frowned. “What’s on your mind, Scorpius? I don’t think having Potter as a teacher should be a concern, if that what’s bothering you. He may be a git, but he's fair. It's a Gryffindor thing.” Draco tried to sound casual, but anyone who knew him also knew that Draco didn’t _do_ casual.

“Nothing’s bothering me,” Scorpius said, perhaps a little too quickly. “I just wanted to know about that thing on the train.” He stopped playing with his breakfast, but Draco could tell the subject wasn’t closed. Scorpius affected a relaxed smile as he reached for his orange juice.

“Well,” said Draco, not convinced of his son’s motives, but deciding there was no harm in sharing the story, “Chances are that what Greg told you was inaccurate, and Merlin only knows what’s written in the history books, so you might as well hear the truth...”

By the end of the narrative, Scorpius’s affected smile was nearly genuine. Which only served to make Draco more suspicious.

o0o0o0o0o

Scorpius and Albus had sat down in different compartments, hadn't spoken to each other, indeed, had ignored each other altogether at King's Cross. Lily rolled her eyes at her brother as she boarded the train but she diligently kept his secret, for what it was worth; she'd pretty much given up on trying to convince Albus and her housemate that no one would care if they were together.

The one and only time the three of them had discussed the subject, Scorpius had tried to explain that no one under the age of twenty might care, but he could think of at least one adult who'd probably hex him for days and then disinherit him if he found out about their relationship. Albus had said that he'd probably get similar treatment from the adults in his life, although perhaps with more hexing and less disinheritance.

After that Lily had finally stopped nagging them, but she had found other ways of making her feelings known, couched as "advice" and usually delivered at the end of a discussion about wholly unrelated subjects, such as Arithmancy homework or who was doing the washing up.

Now, Albus worried that she might interfere with their plans, but so far, aside from her wordless entreaty at the station, she appeared to have lost interest in the goings on of Albus and Scorpius that day.

o0o

The rattle of the approaching sweet trolley provided Albus's friends with a suitable distraction; making sure he had his Invisibility Cloak stowed under his robes, he slipped from the compartment just before it reached them and blocked the door. His friends and cousins would now begin their usual arguments over chocolate frogs versus pumpkin pasties, who was getting what, how many were to be shared, and refrains of _why does she always run out of that before getting to our compartment?_ The subsequent quarrels and deal-making would carry on for the remainder of the journey and Albus wouldn't be missed.

He walked down the length of the carriage and into the next, this one without compartments, and saw Scorpius sitting with his friends in one of the long seats, apparently engrossed in conversation about the upcoming year.

"Sure you have your father's permission to leave your seat, Potter?" Scorpius drawled at his back as Albus passed. Albus stopped in his tracks and turned back to the quartet of Slytherins.

"What's that supposed to mean, Malfoy?" he asked with a sneer.

Scorpius's friends shifted uncomfortably. As far as they knew, he and Albus Potter rarely had reason to speak to each other except occasionally in lessons. This outburst, intentionally provocative, was something new and Scorpius's friends looked wary of where it was leading.

"Oh, I don't know…" Scorpius said as he examined his nails. Then he looked up at Albus. The colour was rising in Scorpius's cheeks, a sure signal to Albus that he was nervous. Or excited. "Just thought since the big, bad Auror was our new teacher this year, you'd have an entourage of bodyguards with you or something."

Scorpius's friends chuckled a little, but it was clear they were uneasy with the exchange.

"I could ask you the same thing," Albus said as casually as he could. "Isn't Daddy escorting you on your first day back at school?"

"Ha, ha, very funny, Potter," Scorpius spat. He looked directly at Albus, whose eyes flitted from Scorpius to the luggage rack above his head.

"Whatever." Albus turned away from the Slytherins. "Ponce," he added, just loud enough for the group to hear as he continued down the corridor.

"C'mon," he heard Scorpius say. "I need some air."

Albus glanced back to see Scorpius and his friends get to their feet. "Don't let anyone sit here," Scorpius instructed a frightened-looking Second Year who was sitting in the row opposite.

As Scorpius and his friends walked towards the opposite end of the carriage to stand in the vestibule, Albus, now at the far end of the carriage, cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and threw the Cloak over his head. Looking down to see that it covered him completely, he moved as quietly as he could back to the seats Scorpius and his friends had abandoned.

Albus carefully stepped up onto the seat and, using his arms to hoist himself up, squirmed into the luggage rack. He tried not to curse as he pinched his hand between the slats. Concealed in the Cloak, he looked around, but could see no indication that anyone, including the Second Year “guarding” the Slytherin’s seats, had noticed the creaking of the seat as he stood on it, or the small "oof" he'd said whilst climbing up.

Presently, Scorpius and his friends returned.

"Are you going to tell us what that was all about?" Sophia Zabini asked.

"I'm just sick of all the _Potter this_ and _Potter that_ hype," Scorpius said darkly. "Ever since we found out the great Harry Potter was going to be teaching this year, it's all I ever hear any more."

"Well, your father's a teacher at Hogwarts, too, you know," Daisy Flint reminded him.

"I know that! But no one goes on about _him_ , or any of the other teachers," Scorpius said.

"That’s not true; Sunita Patil never shuts up about Professor Longbottom. She's even taking double Herbology this year." Daisy's expression made it clear what she thought about that.

"That's not what I mean – this isn't about how good-looking a teacher is –"

"It should be," interrupted Daisy. "Professor Potter is gorgeous."

Albus let out a sharp but quiet grunt. All eyes turned to Daisy save Scorpius's, whose gaze shot upwards toward the luggage rack and then back down to his housemates.

"Daisy, what are you on about?" he asked, sounding very incredulous indeed.

"Oh, please. Don't tell me you don't fancy him, Scorpius," Daisy mocked. "I know you haven't been with anyone since Alex D'Arcy kissed you and then dumped you in fourth year, but you can't possibly be that blind. I spend most of my meals staring at Albus Potter 'cause, you know, he looks so much like his dad."

Albus watched as Scorpius eyes flicked upwards towards him again. He grimaced behind his Cloak and vowed to sit with his back to the Slytherin table from now on. Scorpius would just have to get used to it.

"And now they'll both be at school," drawled Thomas Boot. "Aren't you a lucky girl?"

"No, _lucky_ would be dating Albus Potter," Daisy said. "But he seems as blind as you are, Scorpius, when it comes to romance."

"Well, you could always make a play for his father," Sophia said, a remark which was met by a chorus of _blechs_ from the two boys in the group. And the one above them.

o0o0o0o0o

The train had stopped and people were standing and collecting their belongings. "You coming?" Boot asked Scorpius, who was dawdling in the aisle.

"You go on," Scorpius said. He busied himself with his small bag, taking overly long to get his things together.

Albus heard the carriage door slide shut at the end of the corridor and then Scorpius cleared his throat. "That's everyone," he said softly. A _whooshing_ sound filtered through the carriage as one by one each of the window blinds magically slipped closed.

Albus's face peeked out from the empty luggage rack above Scorpius's head. "Please don't hex me. I'll just climb down."

Scorpius started laughing. He laughed even harder when Albus got his foot tangled in the Cloak and fell gracelessly to the floor below.

"Ow. Shut up." Albus scowled up at his boyfriend, who stood over him, fingers busily undoing his robes. Albus quickly forgot the pain in his elbow and shoulder as Scorpius continued undressing.

Albus tossed his Cloak aside and began undressing himself, but stopped short as the train gave a quick lurch. He looked up at the blind-covered windows and then at Scorpius, who was now naked aside from his school tie and pants. "You know, the train isn't going to be here for long. Are you sure we'll have time for this?" He bent to pull off his socks.

"Don't worry," Scorpius said, leaning over and giving Albus a fast but forceful kiss. "It's all taken care of. We're not going anywhere."

Albus looked up from his socks. "What do you mean? Dad told me the train doesn't hang about; it'll be leaving for London anytime."

"Not if one of the wheels is soldered to the track, it won't," Scorpius said, a smile playing at his lips as he watched Albus remove the last of his clothes. "What do you think I was doing when I went 'out for some air' earlier? I put a delayed spell on the wheels. We've got ages before it can be fixed."

Albus laughed, but suddenly Scorpius's expression and tone changed. His eyes narrowed and he sneered at Albus. "Now, Potter," he said, and for a moment Albus imagined he was being told off in Potions lesson. "Trust you to try and outsmart me with such a ridiculous stunt. Well, you didn't hear anything I care about. But while I've got you here…"

Scorpius leant down on the cushion of clothing Albus had made for them on the floor. Albus fell back onto his elbows, releasing the air from his lungs as he felt Scorpius's tongue make contact with the sensitive skin of his very erect cock. For a long time, Albus stopped worrying about the train. In fact, he stopped worrying about nearly everything.

A little while later, he barked out a laugh. Scorpius looked up at Albus's face, his hand taking over from his tongue. "Something funny, Potter?" His fingers danced on Albus's skin.

"I _did_ hear something I hope you care about," Albus said, his eyes never leaving Scorpius's hand.

"Oh? What's that then?" Scorpius followed Albus's gaze and stopped the motion of his fist on Albus's cock. Albus glared at him and twisted his hips encouragingly, but Scorpius ignored him and reached for his wand, muttering a lubrication spell. Then he leaned over Albus once more.

"I heard that Daisy Flint fancies my arse." Albus fell backwards grinning, as Scorpius pulled his legs apart and leaned over him again.

"Well, she can't have it," Scorpius snarled. "Your arse is mine." With that, he drew a lubricated finger along Albus's perineum until he reached his goal. Without another word, he swallowed up Albus's cock, at the same time inserting the finger into Albus's hole.

They'd gone this far before, but then they'd been safely hidden away in a disused classroom and had had plenty of time to explore, to take care. Never in this…mood. This was going to be hurried and rough. Just the way they imagined their fathers would have consummated their relationship. If they ever had. Which they should have, if they hadn't.

Albus thrilled to Scorpius's – no, Draco's – attention and he thrashed his head, his thighs trembling as he was sucked and fingered.

"Malfoy," Albus, now Harry, panted. "You think this is going to scare me?" He tried to push his legs together, but Malfoy wasn't having any of it. He yanked Potter's knees apart and plunged another finger into him.

Malfoy pulled his mouth free and leaned across Potter, fingers still working inside him. "You get away with everything," he growled. "You win at everything and always at my expense, Potter. Well, you're not going to get away with it this time!"

Potter writhed beneath him, feeling no loss of power but overcome with emotion. Surely this had happened. How could it not have?

"Now it's my turn. This is what it's come to. This is what we've been waiting for, isn't it?" Malfoy's other hand found its way to Potter's cock, fisting it quickly whilst climbing between Potter's legs. Potter reached up, yanked him closer and Malfoy removed his fingers and grasped Potter's other hand, twining their fingers together.

Then Malfoy was inside him, pushing slowly but surely, tempering the pain with an almost reverent kiss, before losing control and thrusting the rest of the way into Potter's body.

"Years, Malfoy…" Potter gasped. "Wanted this for years." He pulled his legs up and wrapped them around Malfoy's body. "Do it. Make up for all the time we've missed."

Malfoy did. And Potter loved it.

o0o0o0o0o

Draco Malfoy sat at the long table at the head of Hogwarts' Great Hall and scowled. That was nothing new – he had learned more than just Potions from Severus Snape -- but in this case, it wasn't a reaction to a student's less-than-stellar attempt at mixing bat-wing with elderberry. This time it was personal. Where the hell was his son?

The long oak Slytherin table was nearly full, save for the his son’s very obvious empty seat on the far side, half-way down, and the one belonging to Potter’s daughter.

He'd put Scorpius on the train that morning before Apparating to the school gates. Where could he have gone? Draco looked around the rest of the Hall. It wasn't like Scorpius to socialise during the Feast, milling about like so many Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, desperate to share meaningless gossip and holiday snaps, but Draco looked across the Hall anyway. He didn't see his son, nor was anyone else in his House away from the Slytherin table aside for Lily Potter, who was speaking with her father. Draco noted that Potter now wore his black professor's robes in lieu of his scarlet Auror ones. As Draco watched, Potter turned and followed his daughter's gaze which was, surprisingly, fixed on Draco. What the hell was that all about, then?

Draco chose to ignore it in favour of having one more look around for his wayward offspring. _Damn_ , he thought. _Not here_.

"Malfoy," said a voice Draco was hoping to avoid for the next ten years or so. "A word, if you don't mind." Potter leaned over him but Draco didn't turn in his direction; instead he stared off into the sea of students, affecting a bored demeanour, but Potter –as usual – couldn't take a hint.

"I can't find Albus. Have you seen him? Lily doesn't know where he is." Potter sounded only slightly worried.

"As odd as it may seem, Potter, I've not been paying particular attention to your offspring, save for the one who was smart enough to be sorted into my House." Draco watched as Lily Potter retook her seat at the Slytherin table.

"Malfoy… I'm not trying to start something. The only reason I ask is that Lily said she heard several of the Seventh Years mentioning a slight…altercation…between Scorpius and Albus on the Hogwarts Express." Potter made a space for himself between Headmistress McGonagall and Draco, forcing himself into Draco's personal space.

"You've obviously got the wrong end of the stick, Potter. First, my son would never altercate with anyone." Draco smiled at his own joke. Potter rolled his eyes. "Second, my son and yours barely know one another. What makes you think they'd have more than two words to say to each other, let alone get into an argument?"

Potter sighed and Draco felt warm breath brush against his face. "Scorpius's behaviour is, I'm sure, beyond reproach, Malfoy. But according to the Headmistress, they're the only two students unaccounted for."

Draco looked again across the crowded room. He couldn't claim to know every student on sight, and indeed a new class of first years had just been added to the unknown faces, but it was clear that his son wasn't among the snakes and there was no one Potteresque-looking sitting amongst the lions.

"Let's go, Malfoy," Potter said, breaking his reverie.

Draco finally looked up at Potter. Yes, same green eyes behind the same ridiculous glasses. They didn't seem to be as disconcerting as when seen at Kings Cross, but seen this close the man was…unnerving. "Go? Where?"

"To find them. They might be in trouble." Potter reached out for Malfoy's chair.

"Unhand me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm sure Scorpius is fine. He's probably…" Draco tried to scoot his chair towards the table, but Potter wouldn't let go.

"Probably what?" Potter demanded.

"Probably putting some things away down in the dorm. He will certainly not be getting into any kind of trouble. Least of all with your son."

A niggling voice, not dissimilar to Astoria's, filtered through Draco's head, reminding him that he was in charge of Scorpius's well-being at school. Draco did what he typically did when confronted with Astoria's voice. He told it to shut up.

Potter sighed again heavily. "Malfoy, how many times did I ever make it to the feast on time? How many times did _something_ inevitably happen to either you or me or both of us between London and Hogwarts? And just because things seem to have quietened down between our families for the last twenty years is no reason to believe they'll stay that way."

Draco had to concede the point. He'd finally settled into his tenure as Potions Professor, nearly accepted by both students and staff alike, and then in barrelled Potter to upset everyone's comfortable existence with the constant reminder of what had occurred at Hogwarts the last time he was here. The last time they both were. There was no way anyone was going to leave that alone. Draco had already been quizzed by students and McGonagall alike about his ability to work alongside Potter. Draco had assured them he could. Now was not the time for showing anything but a united front.

"Fine," he consented. He shoved back roughly, his chair scraping directly into Potter's shins, he noted with a satisfied smirk. "Let's check their Houses first."

o0o0o0o0o

Potter panted in time with Malfoy who lay above him, forcefully pushing himself into the other man.

"You feel so fucking good. I can't believe how tight and hot you are." Malfoy looked down at their bodies where they were joined and Potter followed his gaze. "Touch yourself."

Potter had nearly forgotten about his own erection, so intent he was on what Malfoy had been doing with his. He obviously took too long in obeying the order, and the next moment, Malfoy grabbed Potter's hand and placed it around his straining cock. "Do it. I want to watch."

Potter blushed at Malfoy's words, but complied, then threw his head back as the new sensation nearly tipped him over the edge in a matter of seconds. He tried to hang on for just a few more moments, but the sounds Malfoy was making removed any chance of his maintaining control. He was so lost in the new feelings, he nearly didn't hear the _clang_ of metal on metal that rang out from outside the carriage.

“Si-Si-Sile-” Potter stammered in time with Malfoy's movements.

"Oh god, Potter," Malfoy pushed harder, further in, holding himself above Potter's chest, face red with exertion, eyes shadowed with lust. "Are you speaking Parseltongue?"

Albus couldn't help himself. He barked out a short sound, half-laugh, half-grunt as his hand continued to work himself despite Scorpius's weight upon him. "No," he managed to gasp. "Silencing Charm....did you...say one?"

Scorpius's smile could have lit up the Great Hall and he stopped for a moment to laugh. "Sorry. Thought you'd really lost yourself in the role. No, I didn't think there was any need to say one. I'm sure that was the conductor trying to fix the faulty wheel. It's on a different carriage, though. Wouldn’t be good to have him working right outside the window, would it?”

"Thank Merlin," Albus moaned. "Because I don't ever want to move from here. I never want you to stop fucking me."

Scorpius began moving again in earnest, then leaned down and kissed Albus. "The only reason I would ever stop doing this is for you to do it to me. This is just fucking amazing…" He closed his eyes and pushed in one, two, three more times and then groaned into Albus's mouth. A moment later, Albus covered them both with come.

o0o0o0o0o

"They're not on the grounds, and I can't think of any other place they could be, short of the Forbidden Forest." Draco swept white-blond hair back from his face as the two men stalked through the darkness towards Hogsmeade. "If we don't find them down here, we'll have to go in there, and I'm rather hoping to put that off for as long as possible."

"Why didn't you just put a tracking spell on him, for Merlin's sake?" Potter asked, exasperated.

"Why didn't you?" Draco shot back.

Potter scowled, but it wasn't directed at Draco this time, which Draco found somewhat perplexing. "I assumed that if the boys were here, the staff could easily find them. And I didn't think to do it when Albus boarded the train."

"And _I_ didn't feel the need to spy on my son. I'm sure he'd never endanger himself. What I am beginning to suspect, though," Draco added through gritted teeth, "is that _your_ son has got them both into some kind of trouble."

"Well, they can't have gone too far. The train will be gone by now and Hogsmeade isn't big enough to get lost in," Potter stated.

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Potter, you managed to hide out here on a number of occasions with and without help from your cronies. Are you really that dense or is your memory starting to finally fail you now that you're middle-aged...what the hell –?" Draco jogged off in the direction of the train platform.

"You're older than I am, Malfoy!" he heard Potter shout after him.

Draco reached the platform, Potter on his heels, and was surprised to see the train very much there. The conductor and the Hogsmeade railway manager were down on the track, their heads and shoulders just visible above the platform. Draco walked closer and found them inspecting the wheels on the carriage just behind the big engine.

"Never seen anything like it…" Draco heard the conductor mutter to his companion.

Of course Potter had to play the hero and he leapt to the track to inspect it. It appeared that the wheel had been fused to the rail.

Draco remained on the platform and looked down the length of the train. There was no sign of either of the boys, but what was odd was a carriage halfway along the mostly-darkened train. Inexplicably, all the carriage's blinds were closed and dim light filtered from underneath them. Draco's heart rate rose slightly at the sight, curiosity and a distant memory shouldering their way through the parental concern.

"Potter!" he called. If he'd learned nothing else in his years at school, it was that he quite liked having Potter watching everyone's back. Draco was dimly aware of Potter calling something to the engineer and pulling himself up onto the platform.

Not waiting for Potter to join him, Draco moved down the train to the carriage with the lit window. He carefully opened the door, sure he'd heard a voice. Actually, he was sure he heard more than one voice. Feeling a vague sense of déjà vu, he slowly made his way down the long aisle.

"…fucking amazing," wafted from the other end and Draco stopped. The words were followed by a …moan? Someone moaning? Draco inched forwards, but the seats all appeared empty. Where had the voice come from?

It was then he saw two robes lying on the floor, and someone's foot. But there was nothing else, no other body part. It was rather disturbing.

Until Draco saw the crests on the abandoned robes, at which point it became very disturbing indeed.

He heard a whisper. "Scorpius, I'm sure I heard something. We need to get back to the castle." The bare foot was joined by another and then Draco heard a very familiar voice.

"No way, Potter. Gonna stay here inside you for another hour…mmmmm…"

For a moment, Draco's mind refused to process the words. Then: _Oh. Merlin_. His son? His son and Potter's son? Together? Concealed, no doubt, by an Invisibility Cloak. It was with no small amount of trepidation that Draco reached down and grabbed a handful of it.

"What in Salazar’s name are you two DOING?" Draco's shout reverberated through the carriage as he yanked the Cloak clear of the two bodies on the floor.

The looks on the boys' faces would have been memorable enough, had it not been for the position in which they lay. And it was, of course, the tangled arrangement of their bodies that Draco confronted before any expression on their faces registered. He gaped at them for a moment, quickly regaining his composure at the sound of the carriage door slamming open. That would be Potter Sr racing to the rescue. He's just the man to deal with this, Draco thought as he came out of his paralysis and reached for his wand.

 _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ he exclaimed in a combination of exasperation and disgust. He threw the Cloak half-over the naked, entwined and now very still boys. Then he looked up at his companion as he made his way to the exit. "See you around, Potter…"

The End


End file.
